


Everyone Knows It's Windy

by Rose_of_Pollux



Series: October 2020 writing challenge [15]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen, may be expanded upon if inspiration strikes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:42:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27196664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: Being pursued in a car chase by THRUSH in the middle of an approaching hurricane?  Par for the course for Napoleon and Illya.
Relationships: Illya Kuryakin & Napoleon Solo
Series: October 2020 writing challenge [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1981039
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Everyone Knows It's Windy

“Napoleon, are they still behind us!?” Illya asked. It was nearly pitch-darkness, in a pouring storm somewhere in South Florida, and there was a THRUSH car on their tail. Illya normally didn’t mind driving, but in these conditions, he had absolutely no idea where he was going—all he could do was hope that the road ahead wasn’t closed, and that he’d be able to see any unexpected obstacles ahead of them in time.

“…I think they are, _Tovarisch_ ,” Napoleon said, through gritted teeth. “You have to give them credit for persistence, even in weather like this…”

“I would prefer not to,” Illya deadpanned. He gritted his teeth and tried to push their rental car to move faster.

Napoleon glanced nervously at the darkness around them; there was no way to know where they were going at this speed—it was utterly disorienting.

“Illya, you’re driving ahead of the headlights!”

“It’s either that, or the THRUSHies catch up to us; you can take your pick as to which fate is more survivable!”

“Well, they were shooting at us before, so maybe this _is_ the lesser of the two ev—” He was cut off as a massive piece of debris narrowly missed their car as it was carried by the wind; the headlights only illuminated a small part of it, and for a fraction of a second. “What was _that_!?”

“It looked like part of a house!” Illya exclaimed, not daring to take his eyes off of the road for a second. “The roof, I think!”

“I think you’re right!” Napoleon said, as most large objects were carried by them by the wind. “That’s part of a deck, and those were some beach chairs and umbrellas…” He trailed off. “Illya, we’re near the beach! We’re going to run out of road—slow down!”

“But, I cannot—!” Illya began, but he let out a shout of alarm as he realized he was heading right for a wooden barrier that marked the end of the road and the beginning of the beach.

Napoleon reached over and pulled the steering wheel sharply to the right as Illya slammed on the brakes; they spun off of the wet road and skidded onto the wet sands of a beach that, thankfully, had been deserted on account of the storm. They skidded for several yards before coming to a stop, neither of them daring to breathe just yet.

The THRUSHies were not as lucky; their car plowed right through the wooden barrier, struck something as they tried to bank a turn, and rolled over a couple times before finally stopping right-side up.

Napoleon and Illya exchanged glances before exiting their car and heading into the rain to cautiously approach the THRUSH vehicle; there was no activity, and, upon closer inspection, the two occupants of the THRUSH vehicle were not conscious.

Illya checked their necks for pulses.

“Alive,” he declared. “But very likely concussed.”

“…Better them than us,” Napoleon sighed. “Well, their car isn’t going anywhere; we should get them into our car and get them some medical attention.”

“…Must we?” Illya asked, with an exasperated sigh, already knowing the answer. “They chased us in the middle of this infernal storm; had we been the ones to crash, they would have left us to die, if not outright killed us.”

“Lucky for them it was the other way around, hmm?” Napoleon asked.

Illya gave a resigned sigh and nodded.

“ _Da_. Lucky for them.”

They had just begun to extricate the two THRUSHies from the wrecked car when Napoleon’s communicator when off.

“Solo here…”

“Mr. Solo,” Waverly’s voice crackled over the communicator. “Is Mr. Kuryakin with you?”

“As per usual, Sir,” Illya replied, having successfully freed one of the THRUSHies.

“Mr. Dennell just informed me that the positions of your trackers put you right in the path of a hurricane working its way up the shoreline,” Waverly said.

“Hurricane!?” Napoleon repeated. “I thought it was just a tropical storm! When did it upgrade?”

“Approximately twenty minutes ago; whatever it is you’re doing, I recommend that you finish it immediately and seek shelter!”

“We were just about to do that, Sir,” Napoleon assured him, helping Illya free the second THRUSHie.

“Good; keep us posted.”

Waverly ended the transmission, and Illya briefly joined Napoleon in a look out onto the ocean, watching bolts of lightning strike the water.

“Well?” Illya asked.

“Well, we still can’t leave them like that,” Napoleon answered. “Handcuff them and put them in the back of our car. We’ll still try to get them medical attention it it’s at all possible, but we won’t throw our lives away in this storm—if we can’t make it to a hospital, we’ll find some sort of shelter and treat them ourselves.”

“…I have more medical experience than you with my pathology degree,” Illya sighed. “Leave that to me, if it comes to it.”

“I knew your conscience was still active,” Napoleon grinned. “Now let’s get out of here.”

They secured the two THRUSHies and got their car back on the road, heading back towards the nearest town—and, they hoped, towards shelter from the approaching storm.


End file.
